Captured, and memories lost
by Raistron
Summary: Drake Duskrunner, a Kaldorei Shadowdancer and Duelist finds himself captured during the battle of Ashenvale, waking up with only the knowledge of his name, this is a short account of what he has gone through since.


August.

Drip, drip, drip...was all the Kaldorei could hear, it was dark, damp, and silent. It was cold, something was over his head, it must be the reason it was dark at least. Every part of his body burned and stung, he didn't know why, all he could recall was a fight desperate, and savage, then? Nothing. Something was wrong, terribly wrong, he knew it had to do with the fight, with the hood-thing over his head, but he didn't know what was going on.

Drip, drip, drip...the water droplets still hit the cold stone floor, his feet were bare, his boots either destroyed or taken. The back of his head stung worse than the rest, he must've been struck there, the cause of his forgetfulness. Slowly, but steadily, he could hear something other than the drip, soft, lilting voices, one was deeper than the other, he couldn't quite tell what they were saying, or what they spoke, but he knew immediately they were elven, all he could do was hope they were friendly.

Drip, drip, drip...the damned water wasn't stopping, and it might drive him to further insanity...further? Why further? He knew the answer but couldn't recall it, something was stopping him, but he still didn't know what it was! Something was stopping him from remembering, and he was going to figure out what. The voices were getting louder now, he could understand the accents and his heart dropped, he knew those accents, he knew they meant bad things, but he still couldn't place why, his brain was screaming at him to escape, but he couldn't move!

Drip, drip, drip...the voices had stopped, so close, he knew that they were likely standing in front of whatever kept him still, a cage? No, their voices were too muffled for just bars, and the water was hitting stone, so a dungeon, with stone floors and likely walls too, meaning escape would be very difficult. He heard creaking, then footsteps, whoever they were, they were entering his cell, they were here for him, things were likely to get much worse, very, very quickly.

Drip, drip, drip...their silent steps, and their talking stopped, he could still hear the water. A ruffle behind him, and he was blinded once more, but this time, by torchlight, the cover on his head was gone, and he flinched. His eyes adjusting to the light as he recognized the two beings as Sin'dorei, they were Horde, they were the enemy, and they had been trying to kill him. Why hadn't they? He was nothing special was he?

The words they spoke still made no sense, even after switching to common, he only understood a handful of words. "Supposed..him, why...keep him here?" He recognized enough of the words to get a slight understanding, he might be getting moved, but not yet. He looked down, seeing his ruined armor, he sighed internally, knowing that he was likely to be killed easily now that he wasn't protected, but there were bandages on his body, they wanted him alive, and that worried him.

Suddenly both of their focuses were on him as one spoke, he could only catch but a few words. "Tell us...kill...now." He blinked at the male, he had spoken the words, comprehending enough to know he was in danger now, but he wasn't gonna speak without knowing what he was responding to, staying silent instead, hoping that it would help him in the end.

"Maybe...us, even common,...Darnassian?" He perked up at the word, looking to the female that had spoken, before she spoke again, this time, in a language he could understand fully, even in his disoriented state. "He said, tell us why we shouldn't kill you now." Something about his mother tongue sparked a memory in his mind, his name, Drake Duskrunner. He was starting to remember things, slowly though, far too slowly, the only thing he could reply with was. "I can't remember, only name, Drake Duskrunner."

The female's eyes narrowed at the words, falling silent before looking to the male who had almost perfectly mirrored her reaction, both seeming to come to a silent agreement before leaving without another word, nothing else was said between the two, or at him. He was alone once more, but now, he was starting to remember things, and so he focused on the things he could recall, as few as they were.

Drip, drip, drip...that damned sound was back now that he wasn't distracted, but he would distract himself now, his thoughts turning inward. Drake Duskrunner, who was he, what was he, and why was he here. The first question was the hardest to answer, so he would leave it for last, the second question...well, he might as well try his best at remembering. He was a Kaldorei, one of the proud elven races that had lived for thousands of years, himself past 6,000.

Drip, drip, drip...he was ignoring it now. He was a duelist first, learning to fight with any weapon he could get his hands on, thousands of years to do nothing but hone his fighting skills, made him extremely effective at his hobby, I suppose it could be called, but then, something had happened, something bad, he was corrupted by something, someone, he couldn't recall what, but in the end it had made him stronger, using some magical power to fight, to hide, to scout.

Drip, drip, drip. He had made himself into a weapon, a killing machine, he couldn't remember why, at first, it was merely to pass time, something to be productive with, but over time he used it to help others, people who couldn't help themselves...he was good, at one point, until the corrupting thing, he only remembered bits, his senses being heightened, his hands themselves becoming weapons, he was a savage berserker, not the graceful, tactful duelist he had trained to be. He didn't know why, but it didn't last long, he had been cured of whatever it was.

Drip, drip, drip. Or at least, it seemed that he thought he'd been cured, something lingered in him, something that made him stronger, just in a different way, a way he thought he could control...he knew now, vaguely, that he'd been wrong, and it had bit him in the ass, but he didn't know how or why. He heard voices again, drawing him from his inward thoughts, this time they were angrier, he heard metal on stone now too, and suddenly the door swung wide open, revealing the two elves he'd seen before, but a new one, with ashen silver hair, dressed in black and red armor, he didn't know who this was, but he looked angry.

Suddenly he was struck on the head, dazing him as they cut his bindings to the chair, he was blinking away stars as they cuffed his hands behind his back, pulling him free from the chair and half marching, half dragging the Kaldorei from the room, suddenly his mind was clearing much faster, the air in the hallway was cleaner, something in that room stopped him from remembering things. He was a Shadowdancer, a duelist corrupted by the void, trained to use it to his advantage, he kept it in check, but as he used it, it took more of him.

The elves weren't being very gentle, despite looking it to him,he was being dragged pretty far he thought, where ever he was, it was fairly large, and suddenly he was thrusted forward into a room, this one was empty, with only two chairs facing each other in the middle of the room, the door was metal, and they slammed it behind him, the magical cuffs faltering, as they left him alone once more.

No more damned water dripping, thank Elune. Elune? How had he forgotten about his race's moon goddess, something had gone terribly wrong, and he still couldn't quite tell what, he had forgotten much, but he was starting to get it back now. He sat in one of the chairs, losing himself in his thoughts as he tried to force more memories out.

That corrupting force had been the void, and it was eating at him, consuming him from the inside out, it was only getting stronger, until it had nearly overwhelmed him, he had sought help for months, before finding someone to purge it almost completely from him, but it kept it's grip, and he merely prevented the inevitable, he would have to deal with it again, but not yet.

Why had he been so adamant about surviving though? Why prevent something like that, that was terminal if all it would cause was more problems in the future, he did not know yet, but he was going to figure it out, he had to, if he was going to find a way out. He quickly checked his armor, remembering he had secret pockets and gadgets all over him before whatever had happened to him, but every pocket had been emptied, nearly, on his inner thigh one pocket was intact, glancing at its contents, and seeing a sapphire moon necklace, he knew it meant a lot to him, but he didn't know why, there was also a small pocket watch with a hawk in flight on it, it was still ticking, he quickly closed the pocket and sealed it, lest someone was watching him, he didn't want them to know.

He looked around the room, seeing nothing that could help him, wondering what was going on, but getting nothing out of it, he was completely and utterly trapped, the only option he had left was to play a waiting game, his head hurt more than before, with all the focus he had put on trying to remember things, something was still stopping him from accessing his memory, and he suspected magic, but he wasn't sure what, or why, only that he needed to change it, and fast, lest this be his final resting place.

The silence was starting to wear at him, he had been awake for at least 5 hours now, but he couldn't really tell, there was no way to tell, he could feel magic that sustained him, stopped him from becoming hungry, or thirsty, so there was no chance of escaping through tricking whoever brought him food, he was simply have to wait, wait and think, remember, he had to remember, because there had to be a key in his memories, if they were working so hard to keep him from them.

Maybe he was starting to miss that constant drip, despite it annoying him at first, the completely silence was going to drive him stir crazy. He heard voices again, he knew they were back for more, and a hint of fear struck him, he didn't know why, but he did feel like he was in danger. Slightly, but that was enough to put him on edge as the SIn'dorei stepped through the door, another male, in full armor, black and red like the last, but this one was different, with blonde hair, and his armor looked fancier, he was an officer maybe? Who knew.

He spoke first in common, but at the blank face he was receiving, he switched again. "Kaldorei, you have been placed here for crimes against the Horde, and you will face death if you do not cooperate." Drake blinked at him before responding softly, his voice gravely from the complete lack of use. "Crimes? What crimes? All I remember was fighting for my life, protecting something important, then nothing. What crimes did I commit?" The Sin'dorei merely narrowed his brows at him, before speaking slowly, and quietly. "Crimes that you will pay for in due time, but for now, you will tell me everything you know about the void, what it's capable of, what you did with it, and don't lie, if you do, we will just make things harder for you until you tell us the truth."

Drake merely blinked at the Sin'dorei, he wanted to know about the void? What could he gain by the power of that dark magic, all it did was consume and kill, whatever the Sin'dorei wanted, Drake would not give, but being tortured wasn't a good alternative, so he figured for a good medium. "I hardly remember what I did then, I certainly can't remember how, but, from what I remember, I could slip into the shadows themselves, and hide in them, you could walk over me without noticing as long as you did not step on me. Past that, I didn't use it for much more than to enhance my strikes, make me faster, but that is almost it, I didn't delve very deep."

The sin'dorei leaned back, he listened carefully and quietly, judging every word out of Drake's mouth before standing and speaking. "Get him out of here, he will not be able to help us, bring him up, we will sell him to the highest bidder to gain something out of him at least."

Drake suddenly realized what was happening, opening his mouth to protest, but he didn't get a chance, something knocked him on the back of the head, and completely out cold, swirling him into the blackness once more.

Something was shaking him, but he didn't want to wake up, everything hurt here, it was blissful where he was, but suddenly he felt whatever was under him give out, and his eyes snapped open as he looked down, seeing that he was being moved off a wagon, into a busy street, there were others here, a woman with horns, with pale blue skin, a short pale woman, and a large furry bull, standing on two legs, they were clothed very differently but had one thing in common, they were all standing on a wooden platform, and there was yelling everywhere, in every direction, he couldn't understand what was being said but he could understand one thing. They were being sold, all of them.

He struggled in his binding, to only be burned by the hot metal that was around his wrists, stopping him from trying again, there was a strange object around his neck, two cold pieces of metal were pressed against his skin, he didn't want to know what they were for. He was pushed and shoved to the area behind the platform, it was full of races, of every age, sex, and body build. He was one of many, but he was being placed closer to the platform, in a line that didn't seem to end.

He looked for ways out, and found none, guards, walls, and Horde races were everywhere, even if he did escape, he would not make it far. Suddenly he was being shoved forward, and up to the platform, there were two others, and now there were three Sin'dorei on the platform shouting, he couldn't keep up even if he knew the language they spoke, all he could do was wait, and hope.

It was over as soon as it had begun, he was being pushed off the platform and to the side of the crowd, another man in black and red armor, this one looked familiar, but why, he didn't know. He was handed over as soon as a very hefty bag was given to the ones holding him, and the SIn'dorei gave him a look of what seemed to be disdain, before taking his arm and shoving him forward, down the street, he was now property, but he would not let it last long.

It only took minutes, but they were quickly out of the city, he was forced into another cage, on another wagon, but this time, there wasn't as much shoving, and he was actually being handled better. As they left eyesight of the gates, the male Kaldorei spoke softly, in Darnassian of all languages. "By the light, I thought you were dead, that was the message I got, before all lines had to be cut for fear of discovery, you my friend, are one lucky bastard."

Drake merely looked at the man, not knowing who he was, or how he knew him, only that he was probably not in danger anymore, he only had one question to ask for the moment, because since he had woken originally, he hadn't been given a moment to sit down and actually relax. "Who are you?" The Sin'dorei looked back at him with a brow raised, shaking his head and sighing. "We're going to have a very eventful time, aren't we? I'm Joscelin, a very, very old friend, and you, have places that you need to get, fast." Shortly after, without the threat of danger, Drake was promptly passing out, sheer exhaustion taking over, he didn't trust this Joscelin, but he had to sleep eventually.


End file.
